She’s asking a question she already knows the answer to. We somehow always lose track of time when we’re together.
“Honestly, I’d say this is perfect timing—I’ve always wanted to run in the rain,” I add.
Her lips part in surprise, but I don’t give her the chance to protest as I latch onto her hand and drag her outside.
We run through the heavy rain, thunder booming once again. The streets are empty. The few people outside have opted to take shelter under colorful awnings. But that doesn’t matter to Vivienne and me as we laugh our hearts out.
With one final pull of her hand, she comes crashing into my chest—eyes bright despite her now-smudged mascara and the frizz of her dark brown hair.
I pick her up bridal style and march in the direction of the hotel.
“This is ridiculous, Nate. Put me down!” She protests along with the kick of her feet. But I can’t bring myself to do that with the water accumulating on the ground.
It’s raining too hard, and I can already feel her shivering. One step into one of those puddles, and she’ll get a cold.
Chilled hands. Runny nose.Cold feet.
The last thing I want is for her to suddenly feel unsure about us when I finally suggest the one thing that’s been on my mind.
———
With the push of a foot, the hotel door opens wide. I march straight to the bathroom, set her down on the towel in front of the large bathtub, and turn the hot water on.
“What are you doing?” She asks with a smile, looking down at me as I kneel in front of her.
I slide her shoes off first, placing them to the side before shimmying off the rest of her clothes and wrapping a large, fluffy towel around her shoulders.
“It’s time to warm you up. I can’t have you getting sick on me.” I pour in the bubble mix once the bathtub is a quarter of the way full and watch the water’s surface bloom into foam.
A knock on the door startles us both, and our heads snap toward the sound.
Did I unknowingly order room service?
I mean, it’s happened before.
“Get in,” I tell her. “I’ll be back.”
A look through the peephole confirms my suspicions—no room service, but I open the door nonetheless, checking on either side.
Aside from the low wiring of the ice machine, the hall is completely empty. All except for a manila envelope lying right by my soaked dress shoes, taunting me with the words scrawled in messy handwriting.
Thought I’d do you a favor.
I pick it off the floor, despite the alarms blaring in my head.
“Everything okay?” Vivienne asks, one leg darting out of the foamy water seductively. “I’m waiting,” she singsongs.
A small smile tugs at the corners of my lips, but as much as I’d like to jump in behind her, kiss her senseless, and ask her to really be mine, whatever is in my hands takes priority.
“I’ll be there in a minute,” I yell, pulling a thick stack of papers out from within the ominous envelope.
“Sounds good!” Vivienne chirps.
My eyes quickly skim through the words on the pages, confused as to what it is. And then it hit—it’s a plane crashinvestigation summary. But who sent it? My private investigator has yet to get back to me.
It’s only when I read it over a second time that the information sticks out one by one.
From Pennsylvania to Hawaii.
